


The Palace of Dreams

by acyborglostintimeandspace



Category: Alice In Wonderland - Lewis Carroll, Alice Through the Looking Glass (2016), Alice in Wonderland (Movies - Burton), Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005)
Genre: Enjoy!, I think this is the only work for this ship, M/M, Me? Writing about Willy Wonka and Tarrant Hightopp in 2019? More likely than you think, Well I can't go back now, Willrrant, i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-09-28 00:39:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17172548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acyborglostintimeandspace/pseuds/acyborglostintimeandspace
Summary: Loneliness is the hardest feat man must endure. Tarrrant Hightopp knows this better than anyone. It's been 400 days since Alice left Underland, 400 days since she rejected his offer to stay. He misses his best friend more than he loves making hats, and when the opportunity comes to leave Underland and find her, he can't resist. Instead, he ends up in a world that reminds him strangely of home and meets a man he can't help but fall in love with. But who is this man? Why does he make Tarrant feel like he's floating and sinking all at once? And most importantly, why did he see him in his dreams before they even met?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking this out! If you were one of the people who liked my tumblr post about this story, please comment below! I think this is literally the only work for this ship? I hate Johnny Depp so much and am so sad that these two wonderful characters had to played by him of all people. I've taken elements from all the different versions of Alice in Wonderland and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, but my story is mainly based off the 2005 CATCF movie and the 2010 and 2016 Alice movie. This is meant to take place in between the two Alice movies and shortly before CATCF, so I didn't do much exposition as the reader should already be familiar with the characters and their stories. The mature rating is only there as a safety precaution and possibly for future chapters, but for now, it's mainly T. Enjoy!  
> (P.S. I promise future chapters will be longer)

“Have you ever been in love, Mr. Wonka?"

The brunette man dropped a pink tablet into a beaker and peaked out from behind the glass, hair swishing against his face. “Charlie! What a question!”

The boy frowned. “Sorry…” He went back to studying the beaker in front of them.

Willy Wonka sighed and switched off the machine. He took off his goggles with a nod. “Alright, Charlie. What’s bothering your little noggin?”

Charlie chuckled. Even after a year of living in the factory, he still hadn’t gotten used to Wonka’s way of speaking. “There’s this girl at school, you see.” Wonka nodded again. “I don’t really feel comfortable talking to my parents about her. And you’re my mentor, Mr. Wonka. You’ve taught me most everything I know!” Charlie exclaimed, taking off his goggles, following the older man’s actions.

Wonka sighed again and laughed slightly. “It’s flattering, Charlie, really.” He looked past his apprentice at his top hat sitting on the table next to the door and rested his head in his hand. “But girls are the one area I can’t help you with.”

Charlie’s face drooped. “Is that one of the things you’re always talking about? The things you must give up to be a chocolatier?”

Wonka snapped his eyes back to the boy and giggled. “First of all, women are not ‘things,’ ‘kay?” He stood and walked to the hat, placing a gentle hand on the brim. “And second, that’s not what I meant.”

Charlie cocked his head to the side. “Meaning?”

“Oh, my dear boy, you have so much to learn.” He picked up the hat and placed it gently on his head, still facing away from Charlie. “Yes, I have been in love.”

Charlie gasped, and Wonka reminded himself how much the boy admired him. How most people thought of him as more of a god or a wizard than a human with feelings.

The chocolatier turned on his heels. “Do you want to hear a story, my dear apprentice?”

Charlie nodded eagerly and settled more comfortably on the stool, folding his hands in his lap. “Please.”

Wonka smiled. He hadn’t thought about his boyfriend in a long time.


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all! Happy New Year! Here's a new chapter! I told you it would be longer (and better) than the prologue. Thank you so much for all the reads, kudos, and comments! I didn't expect anyone to actually read this; it isn't exactly based off the most popular movies as of late. But it's made me all the more grateful for my readers and more excited to write! Like it says in the tags, updates are every week, usually every Wednesday. Enjoy! P.S. DM me on tumblr @acyborglostintimeandspace if you want a link to my Willrrant playlist or if you just wanna talk. <3

_ 1873, Underland _

Tarrant Hightopp settled into bed. The world outside his window was as dark as he felt, and he wondered if anyone was still awake. He hadn’t spoken to his friends in a while. They spent most of their time trying to forget the sadness that had overcome them before Alice had freed the world from darkness. But he couldn’t forget watching his family die before his eyes. He couldn’t forget the way Chessur had betrayed him or the way Tarrant had prioritized saving the queen over his own family. He couldn’t forget that he should have died with them.  

He rolled over to face his bedside table and sighed, picking up the small journal that sat on it, fabric scraps and small papers poking out the sides every which way. He opened to a page and crossed off the day’s date. Another Alice-less day.

It had been precisely 400 days since she had taken the blood of the Jabberwocky and wished to go home, 400 days since he had suggested she stay, stay with him and their friends and their childish happiness, 400 days since she had rejected his offer.

His best friend jad told him that she would be back, that she would let him show her the wonders of his home, and in turn, she would teach him about Earth. But, for now, she had unfinished business she needed to attend to, question that needed to be answered. And with that, she was gone. He wondered if Alice missed Underland as much as he missed her. He wondered if she missed him at all.

He put the book back in its place and switched off the light. It had been a long day of hat making and suppressed anger at his inability to make the work fun anymore with such a sadness taking him over, and sleep was coming to him faster than he wanted it to. As his eyes adjusted to the night, he watched the arm of his old grandfather clock swing, back and forth and back and forth. Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick...

****

_ Everyone was running, running away from something that towered over Underland and casted it in shadow. Tarrant was the only one who wasn’t moving. He was too focused on the blonde-haired girl standing before him, a sword in her hand and a determined look on her face. She was shouting his name, but he couldn’t hear her. She turned and began to run up a flight of stairs that hadn’t been there before. She jogged towards the creature that loomed over them, and Tarrant immediately knew it was the Jabberwocky. But as Alice lifted the sword towards the monster, she began to transform. Blonde haired turned to brown and the curls shifted up into a sort of bob, only reaching her shoulders. No,  _ his _ shoulders.  _

_ This wasn’t Alice anymore, this was a man, a man who had no idea how to slay the Jabberwocky. Tarrant had to save him; he was the only one besides Alice who could save Underland- or so he thought. But he couldn’t move. He felt like he was glued to the floor in a puddle of something sticky. Slowly, he looked down. He was. He was in a puddle of something sticky. It smelled like caramel. _

_ Tarrant squirmed, trying to break free. The man began to turn towards him, pale cheekbones coming into view, lips as red as cherry. They met eyes, Tarrant noticing how purple the other’s eyes were, and Tarrant’s heart melted like the candy at his feet. He didn’t know why the man made him feel that way. Who was he? _

_ Tarrant opened his mouth to ask the man his name and to tell him to run. But the Jabberwocky’s jaws opened above them and rocketed towards the man until- _

“Tarrant!”

He opened his eyes and shot up, his chest heaving with deep, quick breaths.

“Hush, hush. You’re okay. It was just a dream,” a voice soothed.

Tarrant turned to the sound and found Mirana sitting at his bedside. He gasped and bowed as well as he could while sitting. 

“Oh! Your majesty!” His ginger hair fell over his face. “What an honor it is to have you here! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Oh, Tarrant, you needn’t act so formal now that I’m queen again. You’re my friend.” He looked up but didn’t focus on her. Behind her was his clock, his windows, and the rest of his room. He moved a hand along his sheets. Yes, he was home. It had been a dream after all, just a silly dream. 

“Mirana?” He snapped his gaze back to make eye contact. 

“Yes?” 

“May I ask again why you’re in my room?”

She frowned. “Tarrant, did you have a nightmare again?” She sounded like she was speaking to a child.

He huffed but nodded anyways. He knew better than to lie to Mirana. She had a way with people’s emotions, a skill Tarrant could never seem to master.

“I could tell. You were screaming out in one of your angry accents again.“ 

Tarrant winced. “But, Mirana, you couldn’t hear me all the way from Mormeal...could you?”

She shook her head. Tarrant noticed she wasn’t wearing her crown and her hair was frizzy and unkempt, its normal taunt curls let loose. She wore a nightgown and a robe, and Tarrant nearly blushed. It felt inappropriate to see the queen in such a state.

“Did I wake you,” Tarrant frowned, “again?” He hated inconveniencing people.

“No, of course not.” Mirana smiled sadly. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went searching for some ingredients for a potion I’m trying. I was on the edge of the Tugley Wood when I heard you.” Tarrant nodded. Mirana shifted awkwardly in her seat. “What was your nightmare about?”

He looked down at his lap and began fidgeting with the lace on his blankets. “It was the same dream I’ve been having since Alice left. You know, the one I used to wake you up with when I was staying in the palace.”

Mirana nodded. “Yes, when your house was being rebuilt.”

The hatter nodded sadly. “Mirana, the dream has been getting more vivid since I started living on my own.” He gulped. “Yes, I saw the Jabberwocky, and it was trying to destroy Underland again-”

“But that’s gone now,” Mirana urged, placing a hand on her friend’s shoulders, “along with my horrid sister and her Stayne. We’re safe.”

Tarrant took a deep breath. He wanted to tell Mirana about the man; he wanted to ask her why he had thought he was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Mirana had made more than a few love potions in her lifetime; she must be able to help.. But now- this was a more pressing issue. He decided to put the other matter aside.

“I know, your majesty.” He moved from under his sheets and sat to face her, legs crossed like a school boy. “I trust that you can protect this land and rule kinder and smarter than the bludy- I mean, your sister.” 

She furrowed her eyebrows. “But..?”

Tarrant sighed. “ _ But _ what if something far more frightful than anything we can imagine  _ does _ come? Something only a champion of yours can fight?” He paused. “And Alice isn’t here to do so?”

Mirana didn’t say anything. Her eyes moved to the dresser in the corner where she knew Tarrant hid his sword. 

“I miss her, Mirana.” He closed his eyes. “I wish she would have stayed.”

 


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! As school and other pressures begin entering my life again, I am trying my best to keep up with this story. Fortunately, I queued up a lot of chapters over winter break so you, my readers, should have plenty of new content for the time being. Enjoy! Updates are every Wednesday. Remember, feel free to message me on Tumblr (my url is the same as my username on here) if you want the link to my Willrrant playlist, want to talk about Willrrant, or just wanna...talk! <3

For a few moments, there was just silence, save for the occasional humming of a bread-and-butter fly and the tick, tock, tick of the clock.

Suddenly, Mirana gasped, and Tarrant nearly fell off the bed in fright. “What if- No, that’s far too risky.” She stood and brought a hand to her chin in thought. After a moment, she lowered it and looked out the window. “Yes...it could work…”

“What is it, your majesty?” 

Mirana turned and faced her friend. “Oh, Tarrant. I don’t want to get your hopes up but-” She fled to his bedside, placed a hand on his arm, and whispered, “What if I told you...that you could see Alice again?”

Tarrant blinked. “I mean, I know I  _ could  _ see her again. It is a possibility, yes-”

“No, Tarrant,” Mirana said, louder now, a wild twinkle in her eye. She stood and walked to the clock, her hands up in her normal strange mannerism. “What if you could go to Earth?”

A moment passed before the hatter fully comprehended what his friend was suggesting.  His eyes widened, and Tarrant stood up, a smile on his face. If Tarrant was like any other person, he would have said such a thing was impossible. The word passed through his thoughts, so horrible and offensive, and he brushed it off with a shake of his head, orange hair as animated as his personality. Nothing was impossible. “How?”

She produced a vial from her pocket. “With this.” She handed it carefully to Tarrant, and he took it, inspecting the contents. A viscous purple liquid stained the sides of the glass, and the hatter recognized it immediately. 

“Blood of the Jabberwocky?” He met her eyes. “Alice didn’t use it all?”

Mirana blushed and let out an awkward laugh. “I know it was terribly selfish, but- but I figured it would come into use someday.”

The corner of Tarrant’s mouth quirked up. “You did this for me?”

Mirana nodded and Tarrant smiled, opening the flask...but couldn't bring himself to do anything but stare at it.

Mirana hesitated. “You don’t have to take it now,” She stuttered. “In fact, why don’t you take some time to think about it? Before saying goodbye to your home and your life.” He looked up at her. She gulped. “And take some time to say goodbye your friends. Life- life is very different on Earth, you know. Anything could happen.” She paused. 

He blinked and nodded slowly.

“It’s also very difficult to find your way back.”

He continued to nod and lowered back onto the bed, staring gloomily at the ground. “Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea after all.”

Mirana sighed sadly. “Perhaps.”

“I think I just need some time alone,” Tarrant said. “You know, to think about it.”

Mirana nodded and turned to leave. “Wait.”

Tarrant snapped his head towards her. “Yes, dear?” 

“You said something earlier. That something was different in your dream?”

The hatter opened his mouth, then sighed, shaking his head with a smile. “No need to worry, your majesty. Like you said, just a dream.”

Mirana raised an eyebrow and seemed to arguing with herself internally, but decided to leave it. She simply nodded. “Speak soon, Tarrant.”

The hatter didn’t miss when her gaze moved to sneak a look at the vial. He looked down at it in his hand, then looked back up at her and nodded. She nodded back, nervously and knowingly.

Tarrant looked back at the small thing in his hand. How could something so small mean so much? 

He listened to Mirana’s footsteps as she left his home, the door opening and shutting with a creak. He wondered what time it was and referenced that clock, the clock that seemed to be telling him something more than the time. Great Bandersnatch, it was late- or early, depending on who you asked. He considered going back to sleep but soon abandoned the idea. His mind was jumbled with fantasies of him and Alice reuniting, of her explanation as to why she couldn’t return all this time. He imagined hugging her, like he wished he had before she left. She was his everything.

Mallymkun had once teased him about his feelings for the girl, but he had assured her it was simply platonic, a friendship that was so strong and ran so deep that it transcended normal stereotypes of lovers and friends. She was his hero and he was hers. Besides, Alice was young, younger than Tarrant liked to remember he was once. In fact, he couldn’t remember how old he was at all. 

Tarrant hadn’t had romantic feelings for someone since he was at school. Girls and boys alike had found themselves kissing the nicest boy in Witzend. But when it came down to it, back then, all Tarrant wanted was to impress his father. And his father only became more irritated with his son when he became distracted from his path of becoming a hatter. 

_ “Once you have become worthy of the Hightopp name,” Zanik sneered, after discovering another boy in Tarrant’s room and sending him off like a fly that had gotten into the house, “then, and only then, can you even  _ consider _ marriage.” _

_ “But it’s not marriage, father.” Tarrant looked down at his shoes. “I was just having fun.” _

_ “ _ Fun _ is not the Hightopp way.”  _

Then, Tarrant hadn’t known what his father meant by that. But now, he knew. The Hightopps might have been part of the queen’s court but they were far from royalty. A Hightopp had to work to get what he wanted. Tarrant had fought long and hard to become part of Mirana’s court and to become her right-hand man. He only wished his father could have lived to recognize it.

He shook his head. He mustn’t think about his family now. They were gone and even slaying the Jabberwocky couldn’t bring them back. But he was terribly lonely, wanted so badly to have a family again.

Perhaps he was being selfish about all this. Perhaps when he found Alice,  _ if _ he was even able to find Alice, he would bring her back, hang onto her, and never let go. With all the things he would have planned for them to do together, she wouldn’t have time to save Underland if a threat were to loom. 

He couldn’t do it.

He closed the vial and set it down next to his journal on the table. He picked up the journal and a quill and began to write about his dream. Mirana always said that writing was a way to vent, to stop your emotions from bottling up and coming out all at once. Tarrant liked it; it was therapeutic.

As he wrote, there was something that nagged at the back of his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about that man, that man that Alice had turned into, with eyes like forget-me-nots and skin white as powdered sugar but not quite was white as Tarrant’s own. At least this man looked human; Tarrant had had far too much mercury exposure to be considered healthy. But this man, a rosy blush highlighted his cheeks, his lips were red like he had just finished a strawberry lollipop. Tarrant blushed at the thought of the man holding the candy between his lips and sucking away at it until-

He put the journal down and shook his head once more.

Who was this man? Why did he make Tarrant feel like he was floating and sinking all at once? Why did he make something hot pool in Tarrant’s stomach? And why did Tarrant forget his sadness about Alice whenever he thought of him?

He looked back at the vial, the clock a deafening pulse in his ears. He had to find Alice. If she had turned into this man in his dream, maybe she knew him. Maybe she would have answers. Maybe he could bring both of them back with him to Underland.

And maybe, Tarrant wouldn’t have to be lonely anymore. 

He rushed up and changed quickly into a set of clothes that would be more suitable for the outside world than his nightgown. He fastened fabric here and ribbons there, just in case he ever needed them. He pulled his briefcase out from under his bed and began to pack it with other clothes and his most essential belongings, settling the journal on the top so it wouldn’t get crushed. Satisfied, he stood and grabbed his beloved hat from his bed post. He adjusted it as a force of habit, although he didn’t really need to; he had made it a perfect fit. He sighed and looked around. Slowly, his eyes were drawn to the dresser, and he took a shaky breath. Surely, he wouldn’t need it. 

But something inside him pulled at his chest and the dream came rushing back to him. Perhaps just for safety measures.

He padded over to the dresser and opened it once more before pushing the clothes he hadn’t packed aside, revealing perhaps his most prized possession besides his hat. 

His sword gleamed even in the dim moonlight, and his breath caught in his throat. The last time he used it, he had almost killed a man. Sure, it had been Stayne, someone awful who probably deserved it, but it wasn’t a feat Tarrant was proud of. 

He grabbed it hastily, wrapped it in a cloth satchel, and swung it over his back like a guitar. With one last look at his room, now looking slightly empty without all of his belongings, he nodded. He produced a piece of paper from his pocket that he had taken from his journal and scrawled a note to Mirana, explaining where he would be if she came looking for him. With a swirl of the ink, he thanked her and set the page on the table. 

Next to it sat the vial. He picked it up. His hands were shaking and he could barely open it. The clock boomed now like a bass drum. Tarrant’s gaze shifted to glance at it as he lifted the vial and drank. It burned a trail down his throat but he couldn’t cough. The world around him began to dissolve like sugar on his tongue. He closed his eyes as he began to spin, his body twisting and turning like taffy, and he felt sick. Something whizzed past his ears, but he couldn’t hear. He opened his eyes. There were objects in front of him, but he couldn’t see. There were tea cups in his hands, but he couldn’t feel or smell or taste. He wondered if Alice had felt all of these things are her ways down and up, in between worlds, in between her double life. 

Tarrant’s head suddenly became too cloudy to think. All he could hear and feel and  _ understand _ was the steady ticking, tocking. He closed his eyes again and let the feeling wash him over. 


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! Sorry I haven't updated in a few weeks. It's been a rough ride since school started again. Enjoy!

_ 1995, London _

Willy Wonka sat restlessly at his desk. The end of the year paperwork was piling high and several Oompa Loompas were scattered around the room, writing away as frantically as their master. Willy’s hair was longer than usual and done up in a bun to keep out of his face. He hadn’t had time for his semiannual haircut this month; this had been the busiest year of his life. After 5 years of being out of business, Wonka had decided to reopen his factory. 

Willy had spent the last five years in a haze. Candy was the only thing that made him happy, and now it had become the thing he despised the most. His life’s work meant nothing to the world. He always knew a day would come where people stopped caring about him, stop caring that he was the one who had brought the world’s best candy into existence. He lived for the fame, for the praise. It was a stark difference to what he experienced in his childhood. Fine, if people would rather have the candy than the man, that’s what they would get.

Then, he found the Oompa Loompas. 

He had spent most of the past year in Loompa Land, looking for something,  _ anything _ , that would give him inspiration to start business again. And he did. 

Those little people worshipped him. And after five years of nothingness, the taste of power awoke something in him, something he wanted more of.

So with their help, he reopened. 

And goodness, it was stressful. But it was the most excitement he had felt for a while, and Willy’s heart leapt at seeing his name in the headlines again. Fame filled a hole in him, the source of which he couldn’t quite place his finger on. His therapist said it was loneliness. But how could he be lonely when he was surrounded by the best little workers this world had to offer?

Willy signed the last document with a flourish of his wrist. He exhaled sharply and sat back in his chair, relieved. He looked over at the grandfather clock in the corner, too exhausted to even take the pocket watch out of his vest. It was far past midnight, but he didn’t need to send the papers off until 8 a.m. Perfect. Perhaps he could catch up on some much-needed sleep. 

“You’re dismissed,” he said, and the workers began to dissipate, each making sure to bow before leaving. 

He stood and stretched, fully intending to just fall into bed and sleep in his clothes. 

Suddenly, the screeching of an alarm filled Willy’s ears. He turned towards the last remaining Oompa Loompa. “What is it?” He yelled over the noise.

The little man pointed in horror towards a security screen in the corner of the room. Willy eyes widened. In the middle of his chocolate room, lying unconscious, was a man with orange hair bright as a neon sign. Willy dropped the pen in his hand.

He had seen that man in his dreams. 


	5. sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> read below

hey, guys. so for now, i have no intention to continue this story because (drum roll please) i’m actually turning it into a novel! it has original characters, an original plot, and is pretty much removed from Alice and CATCF. it has a lot of the same elements though, and I think you’ll really enjoy it if it ever gets published. i’m debating on whether or not to post stuff on here once I have more of it written or to just wait until it becomes an actual published book. we’ll see. until then, thank you if you’ve been a loyal reader; i’m sorry i haven’t been posting. have a great day and a great life!


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